Paper Thin Cranium
by Purpleangel
Summary: “Is it naughty nurse day?" His voice is sleek as his eyes roam over my tattered uniform. I can feel the blush on my cheeks turn ten shades darker. Someone remind me again, why did I take this job? -- REIDXOC. Cowrite w/ Brophy.


Chapter 1

--

"You are now free to go home Miss." I checked off the required information from the chart. "Please do try and be more careful next time."

She nodded as the blush on her cheeks intensified. I don't blame her for blushing. If it were me in her place I would have dropped dead on the spot. The teenage girl hopped off the bed, her boyfriend made a move to help her but she nudged him in the ribs. Poor guy. He won't be getting laid anytime soon. At least not with her. Having to have a condom stuck up _there_ was one thing but having to go to the emergency room to get it removed was a whole other level of embarrassment all together.

I finished changing the bedding covers and filling out the girls chart record when I heard someone walking up behind me.

"You have another one Amelia." Samara, one of the more experienced nurses, smiled as I let out a small groan. "Don't worry this one isn't another condom incident." She handed me the next patients chart and turned to leave me to my duties.

_Sigh_.

Well that's a relief… at the very least…

The amount of sexual accidents on a daily basis is ridiculous: such is the job of an intern I suppose. I should be used to this by now, but I'm not. Not really. Seeing blood, pulling out objects from people, giving sponge baths… yup I should definitely be used to that stuff by now. This is supposed to be my dream after all. It is a noble profession that people applaud for the whole saving lives factor. But being here dressed in scrubs dealing with real people in real situations… this all seemed much more exciting in the textbooks.

I remove the latex gloves from my hands. Yuck. I hate the powder like feeling they leave behind. Walking to the sink, I pump some soap into my hands before putting them into the nice cold water. The skin on my hands feels almost sponge-like, considering how many times I wash them in a day I wouldn't be surprised if I sprouted some gills.

**Knock. **

**Knock. **

**Knock. **

"Hello…"

I turned around from the sink and as saw an elderly woman at the door that greeted me with a smile. I recognized her immediately. It was one of the advantages in working in a small town hospital; eventually you knew all those in the waiting room by name. Granted I have only been working here less than a year, but I was always given the teenagers and the elderly. Neither category of people ever came in with more than a broken something or other. It was merely situational practice given to me by my supervisors.

"Come on in Mrs. Steinberg." I took her chart from the table beside me. "What seems to be the trouble?"

"Ah Amelia." I helped her step up onto the treatment table. Hmmm. She's limping. "I'm having a little problem moving my right ankle and it hurts terribly when I put pressure on it."

"I see. Have you sustained any injury to the area?" She shook her head. Hmmm. No swelling around the area; could be some internal bruising however. Her records don't indicate fragile bones or signs of Osteoporosis. Then again the woman is 67; it could be a number of different things. "Let's start by giving your vitals a checkup first."

Grabbing the stethoscope from the medical cart, I lifted her blouse and placed it on her chest. She flinched on contact. People always do that, not that I blame them, this thing is always cold.

"Now breathe in and out for me." I listened intently to the beating of her heart and her breathing pattern. Normal. "Ok good." I removed the plugs from my ears and rearranged the stethoscope around my neck.

"Let's check your-"

"Amelia!" The nurse dressed in purple scrubs bust into the room scaring the patient and me half to death. She flashed me a grin. "Amelia!"

"Veronica I'm with a patient." I hate it when she does this. Bouncing into a room when she knows full well I am dealing with a patient. Never mind the fact that she isn't attending to a patient herself. Despite her being an intern with the same amount of experience, she never seemed to be as busy or as stressed out as me.

"Okay." She smiled at the elderly woman before flocking down on the seat next to the bed. I already knew she wouldn't leave so why did I bother. "What are you doing after work?"

"Home…" I checked the woman's blood pressure. 120/80. Normal. "I'm going home and going to sleep," I told Veronica before proceeding to take the patient's temperature.

"You're so lame." She scoffed. "Let's go out."

The patients' temperature is normal. Now to check her –

"Amelia!"

"Veronica!" I turned around facing my so-called friend with a glare. "I am not discussing this with you right now."

"Oh come on," she stomped her feet on the floor, "you never want to go out."

"I told you that-"

"You should listen to your friend." I turned to Mrs. Steinberg giving up a cynical look. "Go out tonight. You're young and you only live once."

_Sigh_.

Looking back and forth between Mrs. Steinberg and Veronica, I let out a heavy sigh of obvious defeat. I was outnumbered. Rolling my eyes, I couldn't help the smile tugging at my lips.

"Fine. I'll go." Veronica was about to leap out for joy when I covered my mouth with the palm of my hand. "Now let me finish." She nodded and I let her go.

"Meet you in the locker room after the shift is over." There was a wide grin on her face; it is kind of funny how happy she can get from such a simple action on my part. "Bye Mrs. Steinberg, I hope you feel better."

I waved goodbye to her before turning back to Mrs. Steinberg, whom had a grin on her face equal the size to the one on Veronica's. All these happy faces made my own face turn into a slight smile despite how exhausted I'm feeling.

"Let's get you all fixed up."

--

"We are not getting drunk," I told her walking into the local bar in town called Nicky's. This being the local teenage hangout spot from my younger years I knew the place all too well. To think I spent every Saturday night in this place. Ah yes, good times indeed.

"Whatever," the girl mumbled under her breath as she took my hand and lead the way to an empty table.

I don't know how she does it. The moment she changes out of her scrubs, Veronica becomes a completely different person. She doesn't need any makeup either or any vivacious clothes for that matter. It must be that bleached platinum hair and bright blue eyes that do it: that make her seem more lively and adventurous. Too bad the same thing can't be said for the both of us. The moment I step out of my scrubs, I am still the ol' Amelia. Natural brown hair tied back in a neat bun with boring brown eyes to boot. Why did V insist I accompany her any where? I have no idea.

As soon as we sat down, a cutesy waitress made her way towards her. "What can I get'cha?" She asked while popping her gum. Curly bright red hair, freckles, pimples and a way too short mini skirt: she was beyond doubt a teenager. To think I used to dress just that way only a few years ago. The years between high school and college are definitely extensive ones.

I opened my mouth but Veronica cut me to it. "Two Miller Lites." I kicked her under the table. "Ow! What was that for?"

"I'll just have a Pepsi," I told the waitress. My eyes narrowed as I felt Veronica's heel press into my foot. "Stop that!"

"We are at a bar. How can we not have a beer?"

Disregarding the fact that perhaps she had a point, there were other things to take into consideration. For one thing we had work in the morning: going to the hospital with a hangover was not a wise decision. Why couldn't she see that we needed to be responsible adults with our chosen professions? I look at the waitress who is looking back and forth between us. She doesn't look irritated, she just looks confused.

_Sigh_.

"Fine. Bring the beers." Veronica grinned knowing she had won yet another round against me. I rolled my eyes, but laughed regardless. There is no point in sulking; she had the best of intentions. I noticed her eyes following someone around the room. "V?"

I followed her eyes across the room until I found what – who – she was staring so intently at. Two boys of course whom by the looks of it couldn't even be legal. I had to admit they were attractive enough. They were setting up to play pool by the looks of it with some other underage and amazing good looking guys. I had to envy the girls they went to school with; I would have killed to have good-looking guys like that back in my high school days. But I am way, _way_, past my high school years and looking at those boys just felt so wrong.

"We are at least five years older than them," I scolded her waving my hand in front of her face to break her out of her daze.

"So what." She scoffed. "As long as their over eighteen all is good."

"Rock the cradle much." I rolled my eyes, the blush on my cheeks becoming more potent. "We shouldn't even look at them."

"Oh come on!" She shoved me lightly. "I am not-"

**Beep.**

**Beep.**

**Beep.**

Both of us knew what three beeps on our pagers meant: an emergency down at the hospital.

"We should go," I grabbed my wallet leaving enough money for the drinks that still had not arrived. I felt bad just walking out.

"Why? I didn't hear a thing."

"Right." I'm not surprised by her answer. After all it's not like this is the first time she has done something like this.

"You're going?"

I nodded as I slipped on my sweater and grabbed my purse. "One of us has to be responsible," I mumbled leaving the table.

"I owe you!"

She always _owed_ me.

--

Here I am washing my hands, yet again.

_Sigh_.

Any day now I'm going to be sprouting some gills with all this water. Well at the very least I have a 100 percent certainty that my hands are germ free. Work is work, I suppose. This is my dream, and if it means that I wear the skin off my hands, then I'll do it.

I dry my hands with the towel dispensers, tossing them into the trash.

Emergency shift is over.

Now I can go home and sleep.

But I can't help thinking about why I was called out…

Another car accident. DUI.

Sometimes I wonder how people can be so reckless. At times I have to treat those that are at fault, and don't even care that they are. That's why I hate the inebriated. Bitter outlook? Maybe so. But I know first hand what intoxication can do to someone. Depending on the accident, the drunks are either angry, leering, or just so far off the planet you know they won't remember anything the day after.

Sometimes time passes by so fast. Sometimes, not so fast.

Sometimes, when I'm treating someone, it's as though I'm a voyeur, watching myself taking care of them. I have to remind myself that they are people. Real people.

Its worse when there's blood. The sight of something normally inside contained on the outside. It reminds me of how serious a situation can be, especially if a patient doesn't make it. I might be a beginner, but I've seen my share of serious accidents. I can never get over that grief. The sense of loss that a family goes through. The burden of telling them. Veronica says I have a flare for the dramatic. I guess I just take this job too seriously. Working here tends to make you realize how important life is.

I guess that's why she wants me to loosen up and enjoy it. Maybe she's right.

Maybe I should've stayed at the bar…

"Amelia." My head shot up at the voice. One of the older colleagues walked up to me, eyes sympathetic. "Sorry to have to do this to you honey, but there's a kid a couple of rooms down that needs stitches."

I nodded wearily, asking her for the room number before trudging down the hall.

It is times like this that I wonder why I couldn't be more like Veronica.

Too late to go back now.

I'll have to wash my hands again as well.

_Sigh_.

As I walked up to the door I could here the muffled sound of an argument on the other side.

Rowdy patient.

Just great.

I pushed my hands against the door, avoiding the worn out area where the paint had faded and left the brown stain of wood. Too many hands. It's kinda gross.

The sound amplified as I entered the room. There were only two boys – teens by the looks of it – in the room and I was mildly surprised. By the noise alone I thought there might have been a dozen. Boys are always so troublesome. Yelling at each other so much, neither boy noticed me walking into the room.

"…doesn't even want us to go out to Nicky's any more! Dude, you've taken it too far this time." The brunette remarked, more than annoyed.

"That's bullshit!" the blond roared back, blood running down a nasty gash on his cheek. "What happened to sticking up for me Ty? You didn't do jack all but stand there! You knew Abbot started it and didn't do anything when 'golden boy' said it was my fucking fault!"

I shut my eyes briefly, feeling the workings of a head ache come on.

"You think I haven't told Caleb that enough already?! He won't fall for the same bullshit with you, you know that."

"Well, fuck me! I'm a liar now, is that it?!"

I decided now was as best a time as any.

"If you don't want to be thrown out of here," I called out, garnering their attention. "then I suggest shutting up immediately Mr…" I look down at the paper, reading the printed name at the bottom. "Mr. Garwin."

--

Author Notes: Another new story. Don't kill me. This is a collaboration being done with the lovely Brophy. We had this idea since July but I never got a free minute to write the first chapter until now. We hope all you guys enjoy it.

Please be so kind as to leave a review. All reviewers will receive an exclusive sneak peak into the next chapter!


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